Our Escape
by ninadobsession
Summary: She hadn't planned it. No, she'd planned for a shower and a book, not for bourbon and Damon. Tomorrow, she'd probably regret it, but right now, it's exactly what she needs. My version of what should happen in 3x21.


**Hey hey everybody!**

**So 3x20... never cried so hard for a television show ever. I'm talking heaving open-mouth sobs on the floor kind of crying. Be Still by the Fray absolutely tore my heart open and when they were all standing outside the crypt... ugh so much beautiful pain. RIP Alaric.**

**On my Tumblr (ninadobsession for those that are wondering) I have a series going called "delena things that will never happen but need to." I was really disappointed that the grieving process for Damon/Elena/Jeremy was shown with other people, especially to have Damon basically doing it alone. D/E/J/A were a mini family this past season while Stefan was with Klaus and it kills me that it got turned into a Stelena/Meremy/Damon and himself moment. (Although don't get me wrong, that Dalaric scene was fantastic). I wrote a mini paragraph version of how I thought it should be addressed with Damon and Elena and it got a ton of notes and a lot of good feedback. I'd casually mentioned in the tags about writing the full fic version of this and the other day in class I started writing and... bam. This happened. 2300 words and 5 pages later, I'd transformed that little paragraph into this extended one-shot.**

**Interestingly enough, right after I finished this, Nancy Forner (an editor of TVD this past season) tweeted that there's a Delena scene in 3x21 that will "make your emotions explode." So this one-shot has turned into basically what I want that Delena scene to be. It's simple, pure, Delena friendship at its best and I hope you guys enjoy it. Please please please leave your reviews.**

She'd been contemplating what she wanted to do all day long. All day long, she'd had to focus on something entirely different in order to get through the mental hell that was her life. When she'd gotten the call that Caroline was being tortured, her heart had dropped in her chest. As Elena had driven over to the school as fast as she possibly could, she attempted to fight off the tears by imagining exactly what she was going to do when she got home. Because she would. She had to keep telling herself that. She knew that just waking up in the morning meant she was risking her life. She used to say "just walking through the door" but now that a majority of the supernatural creatures she had to avoid were able to enter it willingly, she'd had to change her perspective.

So she thought about a shower. A long, hot shower. She was going to get out that body wash she'd gotten from an old family friend years ago that was supposedly "life-changing" according to the label. Screw the water bill. She'd take a shower until the water grew cold. She had to fight back the sobering thoughts that entered her mind when she thought about bills, those pesky papers that she'd soon have to start sorting through in order to not get kicked out of her own house. It seemed a bit unfair that with all of the other-worldly crap she had to go through, she had to do something so monotonous and seemingly trivial. For a minute, she contemplated whether the Salvatore brothers actually paid their bills. She laughed a bit. She was an idiot: of course they didn't. She was sure that Damon just compelled whoever came by to collect. But then a twinge told her otherwise. For a guy who was dead set (no pun intended) to cling to his humanity, she wondered if maybe he was actually desperate to do something so… human.

Once she got into the school, Alaric took very little time until he started grabbing her by the neck and throwing her up against the lockers. She wasn't exactly sure why she kept calling him "Alaric." That man wasn't Alaric. Alaric was dead… this was just the remaining parts of his soul, manipulated by Esther to a degree that caused him to be a cold, heartless monster with only one goal in mind: ending the vampire race. So as his torture continued she thought about what she would do when she got home.

Read. God, the stack of books that had piled up over the months. She'd always start a book, read about twenty pages or so, and then pass out from exhaustion, the drama and stress of the day winning over her desire to read. She remembered how she used to devour books back in the day. She'd thought her life so boring back then. Perfect family, cheerleading and shopping with Bonnie and Caroline, dinners and movies with Matt. It wasn't that she hated it. She just wanted more. So she read. She entered into worlds filled with unrequited loves and peril at every twist and turn. If "Alaric" hadn't been right there, emotionally blackmailing her, she might have actually laughed. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted: a non-boring life. But reading those books again would be good for her. A few hours where she could escape from the hell that was her current emotional state. She would curl up in bed after her long shower and pick whatever book tickled her fancy. Every decision she made nowadays seemed to be purely focused on living and dying. Making trivial decisions, like what to eat for breakfast or what shirt to wear, was a welcome relief.

Like always, she did get through her day. Miraculously enough, nobody died. With some help from the Salvatore brothers and Bonnie, she'd been able to rescue Caroline and get the hell out of her high school. Alaric had, of course, bolted. She'd been the best friend she needed to be for Caroline, helping her clean up the blood and letting her cry on her shoulder until Tyler showed up. Elena kissed Caroline on the cheek and got in her car, ready to finally do the things she'd thought about doing all day.

But she realized she didn't want to go home. She couldn't actually. All she wanted to do was relax and being in her house would only flood her mind with memories of Alaric, the real Alaric, and she didn't want to spend her night crying herself raw again. So as she slowed her car down, she made the turn that would take her to the only place she really could feel comfortable in: the boarding house.

She justified her actions the whole way there. Damon, Stefan, and Klaus were off trying to track Alaric, terrified of what he could do if he did locate an Original. The house would be empty. Besides, it was still technically her house, even if temporarily dying had nixed the whole "preventing vampires from entering" thing. She could easily do all the things she'd wanted to do there. There were plenty of bedrooms in the house (she couldn't imagine "curling up" in Stefan _or_ Damon's bed at this point), each with a large shower. Plus, the library in the mansion was extensive. Sure she wouldn't make a dent in her own pile, but the real objective was to calm her nerves, not work on her to-do list.

Once she pulled into the drive and entered the house, she sighed, a deep sense of relief coming over her. She began to walk towards the stairs, ready to start her night of relaxation, when she spotted it: the infamous drink cart. Her brain instantly stopped her with a _no._ But every other synapse in her brain was firing with _yes. _She hadn't had a drink in a while. In fact, she was fairly sure she hadn't had a drink since the champagne at the Originals ball, but that didn't count. No, the last hard drink she'd had was the bourbon Damon had given her after that other hellish night at Mystic Falls High. She gulped remembering that even though it was strong, it had instantly helped relax the nerves that had been twisted for hours. She'd never been a big drinker, but remembering its "healing qualities" was highly tempting her now. A quick flashback to her drunkenness with Damon at that bar in Atlanta came to mind. Relaxed hadn't even described how good she felt when she'd taken those shots.

So Elena felt herself walking over to the tray of glass decanters. _Stop it Elena,_her thoughts warned. _This is how alcoholics start._ Elena laughed. In all the ways she would most likely die, drinking herself to death was nowhere near the top of the list. She shakily picked up the first container of brown she saw (her lack of knowledge when it came to different types of alcohol prevented her from being choosy) and poured it into a matching glass.

She walked herself over to the fire place and made a fire, something she hadn't done since Girl Scouts, but thankfully she remembered enough. After it was to her liking, Elena plopped down on the couch and just stared at the flames, slowly revolving the liquid in her glass. She turned her gaze towards her drink and took a deep breath, taking her first sip. She coughed a bit. Yep, still as strong as she remembered. _Breathe, Elena. You'll get used to it._ She took another sip, larger this time, and felt some of the burn go away. As though it went straight to her head, she instantly felt some of her muscles loosen. _Damn,_she thought. _It's better than I remembered._ She smirked and took a gulp of the liquid, nearly finishing her glass. But her muscles instantly tensed again when she heard a male voice behind her.

"Really?" Damon spoke, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "You had to drink my good stuff? Like a kick to the groin, Elena."

Elena's tension went away. _No way is he ruining my evening. _She refused to put up with his scorn and bitterness tonight. She was going to finish this drink and march her way upstairs and do exactly what she planned to do in the first place. Her heartbeat sped up imagining taking a shower in a house only occupied by Damon, but she stopped those thoughts immediately, afraid of what he might think if he heard her ever-increasing heartbeat.

"Not tonight, Damon," Elena spoke calmly, still only staring at the fire. "I'm not putting up with any of your crap. So you can either go upstairs and be quiet or you can pour your own drink and sit next to me and be quiet."

Both she and Damon were shocked by her blunt words, but everything she said was true. She was going to have a good night and dammit, Damon Salvatore was not going to ruin it by screwing up her head or pissing her off. The silence behind her lasted for only a few seconds until she heard the familiar clink of the glass and felt the cushion beside her sink under his weight.

"Where's your brother?" Elena said, breaking the silence. Apparently, her subconscious didn't actually want quiet.

"You mean your boo?" Elena rolled her eyes, not dignifying his subtle cut with a response. She refused to fight with him tonight. "He and Klaus are still desperate to find Alaric while I could care less. Besides, I'd had enough brotherly bonding for the day." Elena glanced over and saw Damon's face and eyes flood with emotion. Obviously, things had happened today that she didn't know about.

"Really? You don't care? I find that hard to believe considering that _your life_ is in danger if you don't locate him."

Damon scoffed. For a moment, she expected his shields to bounce back with some ornery response but she saw his features soften. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"You're right." He wouldn't look at her, just staring at the flames as they ate away at the logs. "I just… don't want to find him. Seeing him today was like hell. I know it's not really him but… he wouldn't want to see himself like that. Alaric wouldn't want this. He didn't want to die. But he would never want this."

Elena was blown away by his response. She nearly shuddered at his words. "I know exactly what you mean." He turned his head to regard her, his own sort of shock appearing on his face, but she turned quickly, their gazes switching positions. "I had to constantly remind myself that Alaric is dead, which is painful enough itself. But I had to keep telling myself that the man that threw me against the lockers…" She saw Damon flinch in her peripheral. "… wasn't the man who loved Jenna. That was not the man that jumped in front of the car for Jeremy. The man that protected us and cared for us for all these months is gone. But god, it was so hard to believe that when you're staring right at him, you know?" She turned to look at Damon whose expression had instantly grown cold. She knew what he was doing, trying to remove himself from his feelings but she felt the strong urge to stop him. She chillingly realized she craved his humanity at this moment. As hard and warped as it was to admit, they'd grown into a family, she and Jeremy and Damon and Alaric. And she knew that Damon had to be feeling the same pain she was, even if it was deep down inside.

She took a deep breath before she spoke. "I'm sorry you lost your best friend, Damon."

She thought he was going to walk away. She thought he was going to deny it or make a sarcastic remark and put her down. But instead he turned his head slowly towards her. A nearly microscopic smile crossed his lips.

"I still have you."

Elena would look back at that moment and know for certain that her heart stopped. That all breath seemingly left her body. Damon Salvatore, best friends with Elena Gilbert. The swirling emotions that rushed through her brain nearly knocked her out. Her first reaction was to bolt but she couldn't speak, nor could she remove herself from his gaze. She just stared as his own face instantly tried to wipe away all the emotion it had shown in those four words. But she wouldn't let him. She wouldn't let him escape. She wouldn't let herself escape either. She couldn't.

So she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. She noticed his body stiffen, but knew it would relax in an instant, as it did every time she hugged him. She bit her lip, her thoughts shifting from Damon to Alaric and the tears began to form in her eyes. God, she missed him already. She wanted him back in her kitchen, chopping up herbs or even in front of her in her history class, teaching her about a war or a dictatorship. As though sensing the tears threatening to run down her face, she felt his arm that had originally been resting on the top of the couch slide down and wrap its way cautiously around her, like she might smack it off. Instead, their bodies relaxed at the same time, molding into the other as they watched the sparks fly off the log.

She hadn't planned it. No, she'd planned for a shower and a book, not for bourbon and Damon. Tomorrow, she'd probably regret not taking the evening and relaxing since she could feel the peak of all this drama nearing. But at that moment she knew there was no place she'd rather be than grieving with Damon Salvatore over the loss of a great man that had changed their lives forever.

**So what'd you guys think? I'm not too thrilled with the ending, but yes, this is how I've determined it must happen in 3x21. There needs to be Damon/Elena closure when it comes to Alaric. I tried to avoid the romantic-ness since it doesn't have to be about that. From a purely platonic, unbiased level, this grieving between the two needs to happen.**

**Thank you so much for reading and please leave your reviews! love love love :)**


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